Summary: Jack goes a little too long without eating. Things start to spiral because of it. 

Ok...

So this is 100% inspired by Somedayonbroadway's story "Different Now".

She gave me permission to play around with her story and this is basically and alternative of, "what if CPS didn't come when it did". It takes place a month or two after when CPS appeared in her story, they are remarkably still living in the same place and everything.

Please check out her story if you haven't yet!

Also, I have no medical training and this might be super inaccurate. If so I apologize... I tried but don't know how well I did. 

Anyway...

TW: There are some suggestive comments towards and minor, child neglect, and minor abuse. Also talk of drugs and hospitals, which I know can be triggering at this time. 

Please enjoy the story and let me know what you think!

~TH~

Jack didn't want to get up. The sun was just starting to rise, but he just laid there on the thin mattress on the floor. His brothers were together on another mattress. The older boy almost felt guilty at having his own, but it was practical. He didn't sleep much and there wasn't a point in waking them up every time he got up.

He finally forced himself to his feet and immediately had to grab the wall to keep from falling over. His head spun for a moment and his knees nearly buckled under his own weight. Jack took a moment to just breathe. He needed to eat something or he was going to pass out.

His eyes found the two boys sleeping peacefully and he sighed. There was barely anything left in the house. Maybe a heel of bread. He'd tried to make everything last, but it had been, what, a week?

"Come on, sweetie, he won't find out. It's just you and me here tonight." The woman his dad had brought home only a few nights before smiled at him. She was older than a lot of the girls he brought home, which almost made him more uncomfortable.

"Listen, my dad will be home soon and you know he'll give you whatever you want, just leave me alone." He pushed her hands away from him. This wasn't the first time his dad's girlfriends had... come onto him.

"Oh, come on baby, just really quick." She brought a hand up to cup his face.

Jack's brothers were watching him from the couch, looking up at the escalating voices. "Race, you and Crutchie go to your room."

The woman's eyes lit up and Jack felt like he was going to throw up.

"But Jack-"

"It's fine Tyler, just go."

The boys reluctantly left, leaving just Jack and the woman whose name Jack wasn't even sure of.

"Now we're alone." She purred.

"Yes, and my dad is going to be home any minute so you can just wait." He again pushed her hands down. "I don't want you and you don't really want me. You just want a fix."

Before he had time to react a hand came up and slapped across his face. He hissed as the large ring she was wearing cut into his cheek. Jack stumbled back and pulled his hand up, feeling the blood begin to leak from the cut.

"Scarlette!" The door opened and James Kelly Sr dropped the two bags of groceries and came over to his girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her. "Hey, there, we don't do that, okay? We don't hit the boys." He turned to his son, pulling the hand away. He hissed at the sight, "Yeah, she got you good. Sorry about that Junior, I'm just going to take her to cool down, okay?" He winked at his eldest son, pulling her towards the door.

That had been, what, a week ago? No, twelve days, almost two weeks. The bags of groceries had barely had anything useful. It was enough to get by, but last night had finished off pretty much everything.

Jack had tried to eat the bare minimum, allowing his younger brothers to have a bit more for longer. It had been... three days? Since he had had anything. It would be fine though. So long as the boys didn't notice it would be fine. Maybe he could swipe something after school. Not that he wanted to. He hated the conning and stealing and everything that his dad seemed to think was second nature. But he wouldn't let his brothers starve.

They had some butter left. After putting the two ends of the bread in the filthy toaster, he spread the butter across it. He turned around to put the paper plates on the table but his head started to spin. He closed his eyes, trying to get the world to still. He practically dropped the plates, causing the flimsy table to shake, and grabbed hold of the chair in front of him.

He needed to stop. He was fine. In fact, he wasn't even hungry. Just tired. And dizzy. And his arms and legs felt like jello. But he would be fine. Especially if he could get this pounding headache to go away.

"Jack?" Race said, coming out of his room. "Is everything okay?"

The older boys jerked his head up, immediately regretting it as his vision swam for a moment. "Yeah, yeah, just... tired. Is Charlie up?"

"Yeah, he's getting dressed, just thought I heard something fall."

Jack looked up at the table, a flower vase that one of the girls had bought had fallen over, he hadn't even noticed. "Just knocked something over. Finish getting ready and then come on to breakfast." He smiled.

The boy nodded and disappeared back inside his room.

~N~

"Aren't you gonna eat, Jack?" Crutchie looked up at him and Jack almost didn't know what to say.

"I already ate. Before you guys were up. Didn't eat much," or anything "last night. Couldn't help myself." He winked at the youngest boy, hating himself the entire time. He just lied to them. He was no better than his father. The worst part was how easily they believed him.

"Okay, come on, we've got to get to school," He ruffled his brothers' hair.

"What about lunch?" Jack froze at his baby brother's question.

"Say you forgot your lunch."

"What?" Race was staring at him now. "We're out of food aren't we."

"Racer-"

"You don't have to lie to us. If we're out of food we're out. It's not your fault."

No, it wasn't. It was moments like this when Jack found himself resenting, almost hating his father.

"Yes, we're out of food. But I'll get something after school, okay? I'm sure I can find something. Come on, let's get going." He was just so, so tired.

~N~

The teacher in front of him kept droning on about... something. He wasn't even sure what class he was in. His head was killing him and the front of the classroom was nothing but a blur of colours. He knew that he was shaking, but couldn't seem to stop.

Jack jumped when the bell rang, not having realized that so much time had passed. As the students began to exit the classroom, he laid his head down on his desk. The room was mostly empty when Jack finally pushed himself up. He ignored the dizziness as he purposefully walked towards the door. It was so far away. Sitting in the back was good for hiding, bad for walking.

He'd been hungry before. Jack had been with his father for a long time. There'd been times when even with his dad there was little to no food. He'd gone without eating before, but it seemed like something always worked out at the right moment. Jack had never felt this way before. Maybe he had gone longer than he thought without eating. He wasn't really sure anymore. Everything was starting to blur together.

Jack was halfway to the door when his legs gave out. He caught himself, trembling arms holding him up as he tried to blink the world back into focus.

"Are you okay?" A teacher was crouching down beside him. What was his name? Klopp- something. Kloppman?

""M fine, just tripped." He forced himself to his feet only for his knees to buckle under his own weight.

The teacher wrapped his arm around Jack, immediately frowning when he felt the boys ribs. "Do I need to go get the nurse?" He asked, setting the trembling boy in one of the desks.

"No!" Jack responded without even thinking, "No, I-I'm fine, Jus' give me a minute." He pressed his hand over his eyes taking deep breaths. He needed to pull himself together. This was the same teacher who asked him to explain every cut and bruise that he showed up with. Of course, this had to happen during this class.

A noise caused him to look up and see Mr Kloppman shutting the door. Great. They were going to have another talk. Jack couldn't be too mad, he'd brought this one on himself.

"So what's going on, Jack?" The man sat down sideways in the desk in front of him.

The boy shrugged, "Got a headache, that's all."

"Neither of us believe that."

"I do have a headache." He pushed. Wasn't a lie. His head was pounding.

Kloppman let out a small chuckle, "I don't doubt that Jack, but I don't think that's the only thing going on right now." There was silence as Jack refused to say anything. He didn't know what to say. The older man sighed, "Jack when was the last time you ate?"

"This morning?" He tried to sound confused as to why he would be asked that. His thinking was fuzzy so it wasn't very hard.

"Jack, you've lost a considerable amount of weight over the last couple of weeks. You just collapsed because your body can't take it anymore. What's going on?"

He needed a lie. A believable one. Unfortunately, his brain was barely functioning. "I dunno, I don't want to."

"To what, eat?"

He gave a small nod.

"That's a problem, Jack."

"I'm fine."

"Clearly you aren't."

Jack didn't want to do this. Not today. He didn't have the energy. "You know what, I need ta get to class." He pushed himself up, but as soon as he was standing, his knees gave out and everything went white.

~N~

A slow beeping sound brought him back into awareness. Jack's eyes blinked open and the beeping sped up. He had no clue where he was.

"Jack, calm down, it's okay."

"M-mister Kloppman?" He blinked a few times, trying to get a better idea of what was going on. "Where- what's going on?" He struggled to push himself up, but a hand was there pushing back down.

"It's okay, Jack. You passed out again. I called an ambulance. You're very malnourished."

"I'm fine." It was a kneejerk reaction. He was always fine. He didn't know how to be anything but fine.

Kloppman sighed, "Jack, we need to talk."

"'Bout what?" He knew, but any time they were not talking about it the better.

"About this. Why haven't you been eating?"

"I have been-'

"Enough with the lies, Jack! You know that's not true. So do the doctors. They said they wouldn't be surprised if you hadn't eaten in days. What's going on?"

He couldn't tell them the truth. He couldn't do that. He didn't want his dad to get hurt. "I-I just don't want to eat. Not hungry."

The teacher let out another tired sigh. "We tried to get ahold of your father."

Jack felt like someone had dumped a gallon of ice water on him.

"He wasn't answering any of our calls, so they went to your house."

"My house?" This couldn't be happening.

"Yes, no one was there. And there wasn't a single scrap of food in the entire house. They found a locked bedroom, do you know what was in there?"

Jack curled up on his side as he felt tears threaten to fall. He hated all the wires and tubes he was attached to. They made it look like something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong.

"Drugs of all kinds." Jack had locked the door as soon as he realized his dad wasn't coming back anytime soon. He didn't think they would, but he couldn't risk one of his brothers getting curious and deciding to try out drugs like their dad.

"We talked to your brothers, they said your dad has been gone for almost two weeks."

"Where are they?!" He pushed himself up, his arm shaking under his weight.

"They're here, with social services."

Jack fell back into the bed and squeezed his eyes closed. He'd tried for so long to keep people from finding out.

"They said you ran out of food this morning. The older one said he couldn't remember the last time he saw you eat."

Jack remained silent. He didn't want to think. He didn't want anything. He just wanted to be left alone.

"Jack, listen. I know I've only known you for a few months, but I'm a child advocate, meaning that you can tell everything to me, or you can tell something to a social worker. It doesn't matter to me who you choose, but you have to talk to someone." He paused letting the words sink in. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

The boy gave a small shrug, "Couple of days. I was trying to eat at least one thing a day, but we was running out of food and I couldn't, couldn't let them go hungry. They don't deserve that."

"You don't deserve that either."

"I'm fine. I can take it. He would have come back eventually."

"Your father?"

Jack nodded.

"So he's been gone a while?"

"Twelve days. Said he was taking his girlfriend, or whatever she was, out to get her to cool off."

"Had they been fighting?"

Jack tensed, curling into himself more. He didn't want to talk about this.

"Why were they fighting?"

"They, they weren't. She just, she was high or in withdraws or somethin'. I don' know."

"And she hit you, that's where the cut and bruise on your face came from. She hit you."

Jack shrugged again.

"Did your father-"

"No. He never hit us. He didn't like for them to hit us. He loves us he's just... confused."

Klopplan sounded sad when he answered, "Okay."

They both sat in silence for a long while. Jack, aimlessly staring at the wall, and Kloppman writing something on a clipboard.

"Jack, we have someone looking for your dad, but you know you can't go back to him."

He didn't answer for a moment. Still staring. "I know." He finally whispered.

"Is there anyone you want us to call? Any relatives?"

"Medda. " He didn't even have to think. "Medda Larkin. She helped- she's been trying to help dad go straight. Guess it didn't really work."

"It's not your fault, Jack. You did the bet you could."

"Okay."

Kloppman let out a sad sigh as he rose to his feet. "We'll call Medda and see what happens from there."

~N~

"Are you okay, baby?" Medda turned to look at Jack who was curled up in the passenger seat. They had finally been allowed to leave the hospital with a promise that Jack would start to eat again. He really didn't want to, but he wanted to be out of the hospital more.

"'M fine." His brothers were watching him silently from the back seat. It was the only thing stopping him from having a complete breakdown.

Medda moved one of her hands and placed it on his leg, trying to offer him some comfort.

They were going home with Medda, which was a good thing. Their dad wouldn't drag them all over creation trying to get away from cops, which was a good thing. They'd get to stay together, which was a good thing. They'd have plenty of food, which was a good thing. And yet he still didn't feel happy.

The car pulled up in front of her house. "Race, Charlie, why don't you boys go ahead in and get settled."

They didn't argue, although they did both cast glances at their oldest brother.

When they were gone Medda sighed. "Jack, baby look at me."

The boy reluctantly turned his head. "You didn't do anything wrong. You understand?"

He offered a small shrug just as the tears began to stream down his face. He sniffled as Medda pulled him closer. "I am so proud of you, okay? Your daddy is sick. There was nothing you could have done."

"I-I betrayed him."

"James Francis Kelly Jr, you did no such thing. He betrayed you. He shouldn't have left you boys alone. You could have been a lot more sick, or even died, if that teacher didn't call someone. So none of this blame, okay? You did more than you should have ever had to and I will always be grateful to you for taking care of your brothers." She kissed him on the forehead. "Now, let's go in and fix you a proper meal, okay?"

Jack nodded, opening the door. He couldn't say he was happy, but maybe things would be different now. Maybe things would finally get better. 

~TH~

So, that's that!

Please let me know what you think!

It went a little off of what I was originally planning, but I think I like how it turned out. 

Leave lots of comments of what you think!

(Also, if you're following OMY, I promise I'll get back to it I just needed a break.)

Stay safe my friends!

God bless,
Jamie